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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419189">the smell of home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice'>vindice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>forget all the shooting stars and all the silver moons [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, and it shows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:16:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You smell like vanilla.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>forget all the shooting stars and all the silver moons [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1174640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the smell of home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelle/gifts">Estelle</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>“you smell like vanilla” para mi cielo porque se lo debía.♡</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles has just finished reading a book <span>Peter lent him the prior day on</span> necromancy when Derek enters through his window.</p>
<p>“How was work?” He asks, because Derek is still wearing his deputy uniform, which means he came straight to Stiles’ house instead of dropping by the loft to check on the others, the dork.</p>
<p>He scoots over on the bed to make room for his boyfriend and Derek dutifully crawls into it.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Derek says, before promptly burying his face into Stiles’ neck.</p>
<p>It makes him chuckle, but he wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders still. They’re quiet for a moment just enjoying the peacefulness, Stiles playing with Derek’s hair and Derek breathing sleepily into Stiles’ throat.</p>
<p>“You smell like vanilla,” Derek mumbles against his skin.</p>
<p>“I was baking earlier,” Stiles smiles into his hair. “Made your favorites.”</p>
<p>Derek perks up at that. He’s still for a second longer before slowly looking up at him, a hopeful expression on his face. “Snickerdoodles?”</p>
<p>Stiles grins.</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” he kisses Derek’s forehead. His boyfriend is adorable. “Was gonna drop them off tonight, but you beat me to it.”</p>
<p>“Missed you,” Derek smiles softly. Then his eyes shine with mirth. “More for me.”</p>
<p>Stiles’ amusement is still there, though he’s also a little puzzled now. “What do you mean, babe?”</p>
<p>Derek drops his head back on Stiles’ chest. He’s silent for a moment but Stiles doesn’t mind. He lets him recollect himself.</p>
<p>“Isaac told me not to come back to the loft tonight,” Derek admits with a huffed laugh. He leans on his elbow and rests his head on his palm. “Something about surprising Jackson. I hung up when he started swearing at the stove.”</p>
<p>Stiles snorts. That sounds like Isaac, alright.</p>
<p>“Don’t think you’re off the hook, mister,” Stiles tells him. Derek should know better than to think he can distract Stiles when it comes to feeding his loved ones. “You’re not getting any cookies until you have something other than coffee on your stomach.”</p>
<p>“But they’re gonna cool,” Derek says sadly.</p>
<p>He tries to stay firm, he really does. But he’s weak for those bright, hazel-green eyes, <em> and Derek knows it. </em></p>
<p>Stiles groans. He gives in. “You can have <em> one </em> cookie before supper,” he says, as if he didn’t know Derek will eat more than that when he gets downstairs. “But <em> only </em>if you give me a kiss. And you’re eating your veggies.”</p>
<p>It’s Derek’s turn to groan. “But I don’t need them,” he says. He slumps, letting his weight fall on top of Stiles.</p>
<p>Stiles breathes out a little <em> oof. </em>“Don’t argue with me. You know I will win,” he tugs at Derek’s ear fondly. “Now c’mere, gimme my kiss.”</p>
<p>He thinks sometimes being a pushover is worth it when his boyfriend smiles like that, small but joyous and bright.</p>
<p>The kisses are always a nice bonus, of course.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>how come any time I try to write these two the uwus jump out? who knows. but it’s what they deserve.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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